Heat
by Rabiscar
Summary: Chapters 5 is up! Winter has fallen on the survivors of the 100. It's a struggle just to stay safe, find food, and most of all, keep warm. BELLARKE. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

"This is dangerous Clarke."

"Maybe, but so is starving to death."

"There are other things to eat in this forest."

"Yeah, well we haven't been eating much of anything lately."

"The river's a boundary and I don't like being within sighting distance of the grounders."

"I don't like it either Bellamy but everything we do is about risk management. Sometimes you need to take a risk to get the reward."

"Why's it always gotta be you taking the risks?" He grumbled.

"I've told you a hundred times, I'm not asking anyone to do something that I wouldn't."

Bellamy rolled his eyes and slouched further into the fur pelt hanging around his shoulders.

"You know, leaders who say that kind of thing are very idealistic but they end up dead."

"Well, I'm not dead," Clarke snapped.

"Yet," Bellamy muttered under his breath.

"That a threat?" Clarke asked over her shoulder as she stomped through the snow.

"More like a promise of what's to come if you don't smarten up."

"Thanks for the concern," Clarke snarled.

"You've never even been fishing before."

"There are a lot of things I never did before I got here."

"How do you know the ice is thick enough to stand on?"

"I don't."

"Great. Sounds like a perfect plan, princess."

"You know we have to at least try-" Clarke halted and widened her eyes, staring out across the frozen river. Bellamy followed her gaze. A young girl was walking on the ice. Under all of her furs it was hard to distinguish her face but there was no mistaking the long hair styled with bone adornments and leather ties- she was clearly a grounder child.

"She shouldn't be out there alone," Clarke muttered.

"Clarke, don't," Bellamy urged but in a heartbeat Clarke had bolted toward the river's edge.

"Go home!" Clarke yelled hoarsely and waved at the girl. Clarke hesitated at the edge of the river; she didn't know who was watching her from the other side. The girl looked up in sudden fear and started scrambling back to shore. There was a sound like a gunshot and the girl fell through the ice.

"NO!"Clarke screamed and shuffled quickly across the ice.

"CLARKE," Bellamy roared but he knew it was no good, she was sliding across the ice as fast as her feet would carry her and nothing he said would make her turn back. He didn't dare step out on the ice with her, he didn't know how much weight it could take. Clarke reached the jagged hole in the ice and plunged her arm into the water. There were bubbles rising up and the water stirred violently which Clarke took as a good sign. She reached around until she felt fur and grasped tightly to the pelt, pulling hard. The girl came spluttering out of the water, coughing and sobbing.

"It's okay, it's okay," Clarke smoothed the girl's wet hair back. "Come on." She dragged the girl across the ice, taking slow, ginger steps. When they reached the shore, a grounder rushed out of the trees and embraced the girl. The woman took the girl up in her arms and nodded at Clarke before turning back into the trees.

Clarke turned back and saw Bellamy waiting for her on the opposite shore. She stepped lightly across the river, careful to walk a wide circle around the hole in the ice. She was nearly back to the shore when she plunged through the ice. The water was shallow enough for her to stand but when she fell in her head went under and she was completely submerged. She stood and Bellamy reached out and grabbed her by the scruff of her furs to haul her out of the river.

"What were you thinking?" he growled and pulled her along roughly.

"Slow down," Clarke protested, her whole body racking.

"I can't, I've gotta get you out of this cold cus you're a goddamned idiot," Bellamy said through gritted teeth and half dragged her along the path. "Its so cold out you're not even going to make it back to camp without freezing to death."

"Bunker," Clarke said, her teeth chattering.

"Yup, that's where we're headed princess, now come on."

Clarke's legs started giving way, her body shutting down in the cold and Bellamy scooped her up in his arms and carried her. Trudging through snow, it was not easy work but he had little other choice. Seconds turned to minutes and Clarke had already been out in the cold too long. Finally, Bellamy reached the bunker door and wrenched it open. He pushed Clarke through the door and shut it closed behind them. Even underground, the air was cold enough to mist their breath. Bellamy set Clarke down on a chair and pointed a finger at her.

"Take your clothes off," he said firmly before turning to rummage through cases looking for the blankets and glowsticks they had found the last time they were there. Clarke weakly obliged and started pulling off her boots and peeling off her wet furs and the shirts she had layered underneath. Bellamy broke several glowsticks and scattered them over the floor before dumping all of the blankets on a tiny bed in the corner. He crossed the room to where Clarke was attempting to lay out her clothes to dry and he shook off his pelt and sweater.

"Here," he said gruffly. "Dry off with this," he handed her his sweater. It was dark and cold but even in the half light of the glowsticks he could see the blue hue of her lips.

"Dry?" he asked her after a minute or so.

"Ya," she nodded fervently and tossed the sweater back to him.

"Good," he said and scooped her up in his arms again. She started to protest but he had already crossed the room and dropped her on the bed.

"Get under the covers, I'm coming in." He unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants off while Clarke burrowed under the blankets. Even the bed was cold in the frigid air. Bellamy stripped down to his shorts and climbed in after her.

"Sharing body heat-" he started to explain.

"Survival 101, I know," Clarke snapped and Bellamy heaved a sigh of relief. If she was already strong enough to argue then maybe she'd pull through this. Clarke's fumbling, shaking hands reached towards him and he pulled her flush against his chest.

"God, you're ice," he whispered as her skin made contact with his. She pressed her face into his neck and he ducked his chin against her head. His arms wound tightly around her and his hands splayed across her back, trying to cover every inch of her skin with his. Her legs tangled in his and she was still shaking uncontrollably.

"You know," he said as he rubbed a slow circle against her back, "when they used to turn the heat down in Walden I'd do jumping jacks in my bed to warm up the sheets."

"They used to turn down the heat in Walden?" Clarke's teeth chattered.

"Gotta conserve resources, right?" Bellamy said bitterly. "Anyway, I'm going to do some half jumping jacks."

He kept his arms firmly around Clarke but his legs opened and shut like a jumping jack lying down. Slowly, the space between the blankets started to warm up and Clarke could feel his heat bleeding into her. She stopped shaking and felt her body relax.

"No more shivers?" he asked.

"Nope," she said into his neck.

"Good."

She didn't tell him that her chest hurt and her throat felt tight. He didn't need to know how hard it was for her to breathe in the cold or how hard it was just to get words out.

"You shouldn't have gone after her," he muttered.

"Had to."

"No you didn't. She was a _grounder. _Let them look after their own, they're certainly not looking after us."

"She was a _child._"

"A child who probably already has burns on her back and will grow up trying to kill us," he growled.

Clarke drew in breath to protest and started to cough. The cold air made her throat tight and her chest was sore. It was hard to get any words out at all.

"Sit tight princess," he rolled her off of him and reached over the side of the bed to grab a glowstick from the floor. When he rolled back towards her, he pulled the covers over their heads.

"Breathing warm air should help a little but I don't know what you've done to your body," he said, surveying her blue lips and the ragged heaving of her chest. "I'm not the doctor around here. In case you don't remember, that's you. And you went and threw the only person we have with any medical training into a freezing river, some leader you are. If you had an ounce of sense you'd realize we can't afford to lose you." His voice was low and angry.

Clarke said nothing, she only pulled herself closer to him and his heat.  
>"Let me see your fingers," he said abruptly and snatched at her hands. Her fingers were cold but red- not black or blue- a good sign. Her feet were freezing against his and he reached up to feel her nose; also freezing.<p>

"Your extremities are so cold," he said and without thinking brought her hands up to his mouth, exhaling his hot breath onto her skin.

"Body's trying to heat my core," she stuttered. "Diverting warmth away from non-vital organs."

Bellamy smirked. "See, your body knows what you don't."

Clarke stared at him, puzzled.

"You're the brain, that girl was a toe," he explained with a shrug.

Clarke narrowed her eyes. "You sound like Jaha," she said. "Turning down Walden's heat to keep Council members warm."

"That's different," he grumbled. "Anyway, you should shut up- your talking is wasting the energy your body needs to warm up."

Clarke rolled her eyes and Bellamy pushed her onto her back, shifting his weight as he went until he was mostly on top of her.

"Just rest now," he said, "we'll stay under here til you're warm and your clothes are dry enough to wear outside."

"Fine," she agreed with a frown, her hands reaching up to thread through the hair at the nape of his neck. She pressed her forehead against his shoulder and closed her eyes.

****

When she awoke, Bellamy was slumped heavy against her body, his nose squashed against her cheek. She felt sticky with sweat and pulled the blanket back to expose her face to the cold air of the bunker.

"Hey," Bellamy stirred and pushed himself up. "How you feel?" he asked huskily, still squinting from sleep.

"Better," Clarke allowed him a rare smile. "I can feel my toes."

Bellamy grinned in response and rolled out of bed, reaching for his jeans.

"Here," he tossed her one of his shirts. "Your clothes are still wet. Surprise, surprise: soaking wet clothes don't dry too quickly in a cold basement. Think you'll be able to stay warm if I run back to camp to get you some dry things?"

"Yeah," Clarke said, fidgeting to put his shirt on without letting too much heat out from her cocoon of blankets.

"Good," he nodded as he zipped up his jacket. "And eat these," Bellamy handed her the rations he had packed in his make-shift knapsack. "You probably burned a lot of calories with all that shivering."

He shrugged into his fur pelt and stared at her appraisingly.

"Sure you're alright?"

"Bellamy. I'll be fine. My body temperature is back up, my skin is a normal colour, I've got nuts to eat and warm blankets and a flannel shirt, I'll survive the 20 minutes it takes you to get to camp and back."

"Alright," he smiled. "Stay in your tower, princess, try not to go saving any grounders while I'm gone." 


	2. Chapter 2

"We should take these back with us."

Bellamy wrenched his eyes from the floor and took stock of the heap of blankets on the bed.

"Ya we should," he agreed. "But there's not enough of them," he grumbled. "How are we going to distribute them."

"Distribute based on need like everything else," Clarke shrugged as she laced up her boots.

"Well sure but easier said than done," Bellamy contested. "Gut instinct is to just hand them out to the youngest kids but we need to keep our hunters healthy so that everyone can eat."

Clarke chewed on her lip and got to her feet. "You know, I would say we should just have people double up, share blankets and share body heat but I'm not sure I want to encourage that."

Bellamy looked up in surprise. "You think we're going to have a baby boom?" he grinned.

Clarke shrugged. "I know we can't afford one and I know we don't have a lot of contraceptives to spare."

"I'll add condoms to the foraging list," he rolled his eyes.

"Alright, let's say we'll try to get more fur pelts and for now everyone can double up with the blankets. I'll just have to give a family planning talk at some point this week."

"Great," Bellamy pulled a face and gathered the blankets in his arms.

"We should pull down the last of the tents and get them in the drop ship this week too," Clarke murmured.

"Would you give it a rest Clarke?"

"What?"

"You _just_ recovered from falling in a half-frozen lake, maybe you should take it easy for the next couple of days. Jesus," he muttered darkly. "Spend half the day spooning the warmth back into you and you're already planning a crash course in sex-ed and a camp tear down."

"I'm just making a mental checklist of what needs to get done," Clarke explained, "it's not like I'm suggesting we go and give fishing another go."

Bellamy stared at her pointedly.

"Okay, I was going to bring it up later but ya I think that by the end of the week we should probably give fishing another go."

"Clarke, I swear to God. . ." 

* * *

><p>"We have a new supply of blankets but there's not enough to go around. Pick a partner to share a blanket with and set up in the drop ship. Don't be an asshole, if you're caught hoarding you're going to be back outside sleeping in the tents."<p>

This announcement immediately set off a smattering of cheers, high fives, cat calls, and air kisses around the camp as the delinquents called to prospective sleeping partners.

"Remember," Clarke called out, "You're getting a bunk buddy so you can stay warm and survive this winter. But if you're going to get up to any extracurricular activities under your new shared blanket, make sure its nothing that will get anybody pregnant."

Laughter rang out from all around the camp.

"I mean it," Clarke shouted out firmly. "This is not the Ark. If you get pregnant, all I can do is haul you into the med bay and tell you to push. There's no medicine, no anesthesia, no surgeons on hand for a c-section; just you against the elements. This is Earth. People on earth _die_ from childbirth. We don't have the resources to deliver a baby and we sure don't have the resources to raise one. So be safe."

That sobered everyone up considerably and it was with strained faces that the delinquents lined up to collect their new blankets.

Clarke turned away from the crowd to walk toward her tent.

"Way to go princess, you really know how to lighten the mood," Bellamy fell into step beside her.

Clarke shot him a sidelong glance. "You saw them after you announced the sleeping partner pitch, they thought it was seduction season."

"They've got so little to get excited about Clarke, just once can we make an announcement that _raises_ morale?"

"Its hard enough to keep them alive much less keep them happy," Clarke sighed and trudged on through the snow. "Do you ever think we're being a little too. . . "

"What?" Bellamy demanded.

"I don't know, elitist?" Clarke asked.

"No."

"Not even a bit? You've never even thought about it?"

"Absolutely not," Bellamy insisted as they came to a halt outside of Clarke's tent.

"We think we're the most qualified people around so we think it's okay for us to make decisions for _everyone_," Clarke said exasperatedly. "That's basically the definition of elitism."

"Okay, so we're elitist," Bellamy shrugged his shoulders, "you asked if we were _too _elitist and I said no."

"Bellamy, come on-"

"No, you come on, what do you want me to say Clarke? I trust our decisions. I don't trust the mob."

"I don't either!" Clarke responded. "But there is a middle ground between groupthink decision making and total dictatorship! What if we had some public forum for open conversation, discourse- "

"This isn't Ancient Greece, Princess. This is a bunch of teenagers sleeping in the woods."

"Bel, I _know._ But we've got to start reinstating some semblance of civilized society at some point."

"Think about it Clarke, most of our 'citizens' are children. They're not even 18 yet, not even old enough to vote! And you want them involved in decision making? They're a bunch of kids!"

"We won't know what they're capable of if we don't give them a chance. You're only 23 and you're leading them."

"Ya well I'm exempt, I had to grow up quick."

"So have they!" Clark insisted. "Look, I'm not saying we hold an election or put every decision to a referendum. I still want us to have the final say. I'm just saying we should try to at least hear what they think sometimes before we go off plotting on our own."

Bellamy huffed and ground his boot into the snow.

"Whatever," Clarke said, "It's not like we have to decide anything now," she conceded. "Anyway, you're following me so you must need something- what is it?"

Bellamy scowled. "Nothing," he muttered. "Just try to get some rest, princess." He shook his head and stomped away.

Clarke entered her tent to find Finn lying on her cot.

"Finn," she said in a high voice. "Hey, what are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you to get back," he sat up. "Wondering where you've been and when to send out the search party."

"You don't want to know. I forced Bel into being back up for me while I tried a hand at fishing and it turned into a bit of a fiasco," Clarke summed up.

"So what, he's Bel now?" Finn demanded. "What are you thinking, Clarke? Don't you remember when he had you dangling over a pit and stood there humming and hawing about whether or not he should let you fall?"

Clarke narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, I do. And I remember his first instinct was to catch me. _And_ I remember that he's saved me several times over since then."

"He's brutal, he's violent, he's unpredictable," Finn rhymed off on his fingers. "I just don't understand how can you _trust_ him?"

"How can you not? He _tortured_ someone for you Finn."

"Yeah, well, forgive me if I'm not ecstatic about that."

"None of us were but you're still alive and I _am_ ecstatic about _that_."

"Me being alive doesn't excuse his behaviour. And don't say he tortured someone like it was some great feat that's tormented him since. He's used to bullying his way around and using aggression to maintain authority."

"Finn," Clarke took a deep breath, and closed her eyes, "I know you weren't there so you don't know, but just trust me on this one. Bellamy took no pleasure in swinging that belt."

"It doesn't matter!" Finn interjected. "Even when he means well, his methods are psychotic!"

"Look," Clarke was half-shouting at this point. "If you talked me a few weeks ago I would have said we'd be better off without him. And I would have been wrong because I could _not_ have done any of this without him."

Finn stood there staring at her with his mouth gaping. The weight of her words hung heavy in the air.

"Clarke," a deep voice called from outside. "I need you take a look at- "Bellamy stopped talking the second he ducked through the tent flap, his eyes darting from Finn to Clarke and back again. "Uh," he coughed, "just an inventory list for the med bay, I can show you later if you're busy."

"No, its fine," Clarke said, shaking her head and beckoning him inside. "We were just talking," she gestured to Finn.

"Yeah," Finn nodded. "I was heading out anyway," he made towards the flap, "see you later."

Bellamy raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

"Alright," Clarke crossed her arms. "Quit playing dumb, how much of that did you hear?"

"It's really none of my business."

Clarke rolled her eyes. "Yeah but you still listened in."

"Not my fault that Spacewalker's voice carries so well," Bellamy shrugged.

Clarke sighed and squeezed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.

"He'll come around," she affirmed with a nod, "he's just- "

"Jealous," Bellamy nodded back, arms crossed over his chest.

Clarke's mouth fell open for a fraction of a second but then she was stony and impassive again.

"That's not what I was going to say," she shook her head.

"But you know its true," he stated matter of factly. Clarke squinted and shook her head again.

"Oh come on Clarke," Bellamy huffed. "It's easy to see. He thinks he wound up with nothing and I ended up with the Princess."

Clarke stared at him but was silent.

"Little does he know, you only ever talk to me about business," Bellamy smiled and whipped a piece of paper out of his pocket. "Here's the med bay inventory, let me know if there's anything you need added to it, I'm sending a group out tomorrow."

And with that, he turned on his heel and disappeared out the tent flap.


	3. Chapter 3

"The snow we've seen is just a light dusting, there's more coming, a lot more coming and we need to get ready. We might be snowed in the drop ship for days, unable to get outside. We need space for everyone to sleep, a functional med bay, somewhere to stockpile food, latrines."

Bellamy clenched his jaw and looked briefly at Clarke before turning back to Monty.

"Alright," he said. "We'll start with cleaning out some space in here and getting everyone moved in properly. Organize the bedding, that sort of thing. After that we'll see if we can build a shed to store the food, something animals can't get into that's reasonably dry and cold. Monty, you think you could draw up blueprints for something like that?"

"Yeah, I'll give it a go," Monty nodded.

"I guess we're just digging latrines huh?" Finn asked.

"Guess so," Bellamy shrugged.

"They had indoor plumbing in Ancient Rome and we'll be lucky to have a hole in the ground."

"Hey, if you've got a better idea, let's hear it," Bellamy responded.

"I don't," Finn shook his head. "I'm just worried about when it gets real cold and we've got young kids wandering out of the dropship at night to get to the bathroom."

"We'll set up a buddy system," Clarke said. "We've already told everyone they need to find a bunk buddy, guess they'll all need bathroom buddies too."

Raven widened her eyes. "Sounds like we're going to be getting to know each other _real_ well."

Bellamy snickered. "Hey, you got any ideas for heating this place?"

"Yeah, I've got a few," Raven nodded. "But I'm going to need to know where you guys keep finding these supplies."

Bellamy exchanged a look with Clarke.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"The guns, the blankets, the glowsticks," Raven listed. "If you guys have a source, I need to know about it. There might be pieces there that I can use. I can only build so much with a broken radio."

Bellamy looked to Clarke again. She gave the slightest of nods and he turned back to Raven.

"Alright, we'll bring you out there tomorrow. But keep it quiet, I don't want this becoming public information."

"I can keep a secret," Raven shrugged and raised her eyebrows at Bellamy. "Can you?" She smiled and spun around to stride out of the room.

Bellamy scowled at her back.

"Whoaa-" Monty intoned once the hatch door shut behind her, "what was _that _about?"

"Finn," Bellamy said loudly, "you get started with organizing the sleeping area. And tell Miller to get a crew to store the tents. Monty, start the blueprints for the food store and start thinking about a design to keep the entrance from getting snowed in." He stared at them.

"Now would be a good time."

"Right," Monty stirred. He pushed Finn in the chest and they both turned and walked briskly toward the hatch.

Bellamy watched them go and then turned to Clarke.

"I don't know, princess," he shook his head.

"What?" Clarke asked.

"Look," Bellamy dropped his voice to a whisper, "I didn't say anything but what's going to happen if people start getting sick again? We're practically living on top of each other, disease is going to spread _quick_."

"We don't have any other choice," Clarke shrugged. "Well," she amended, "unless we want to split up the group and take half to the bunker-"

"No," Bellamy said immediately, "no splitting up."

"I didn't want to either," Clarke admitted.

"We stay together," Bellamy said firmly. He rubbed his chin. "How much do you trust Raven?" he asked. "I don't really like the idea of giving her access to the bunker."

"She's brilliant," Clarke said. "And we need her so I'd say we have to trust her."

"I know," Bellamy rolled his eyes. "But do you _really_?" he asked.

Clarke chewed on her lip. "My mom did," she said after a pause. "And Raven risked everything to come down here."

"She risked everything to come down here for Finn and now he wants nothing to do with her."

"Yeah," Clarke nodded. "But I don't think she's malicious, just hurt," she said. "I trust her technical abilities, I'm still not sure about her judgement, let's just say that."

Bellamy nodded.

"Alright, princess," he clapped her on the arm. "I'm going to get a crew together to start digging latrines. 

* * *

><p>There was a tinny knock and Raven's head popped up in the hatch door.<p>

"Hey," she said breathlessly. "Mind if I work on the heaters in here? There's nowhere quiet to work now that everyone's set up camp inside."

"Sure, join the club," Clarke jerked her thumb over her shoulder.

Bellamy had a disassembled gun spread out on a table in the corner. Monty was sprawled out on the floor, lying stomach down and sketching out blueprints. Finn was seated at a table in the centre of the room pouring over an array of medical equipment.

Raven scanned the room and sat down against the far wall. Clarke returned to her seat across the table from Finn.

"Alright, so we'll start with the ABCs. The first thing you do if someone comes to you and they're sick or injured is check their ABCs- airways, breathing, circulation," Clarke rhymed off on her fingers.

"Airways, breathing, circulation," Finn muttered under his breath.

"Exactly," Clarke said. "Airways and breathing I think are pretty self explanatory- if they're not breathing you'll need to administer CPR, and circulation is just checking their bleeding. Apply pressure and cover in gauze- just basic first aid stuff."

"Right, yeah, we covered it in Earth Skills," Finn said.  
>"Good," Clarke nodded. "Next you'll want to check their vitals- take their pulse, count their breaths, and take their blood pressure," she said. "But we don't have a BP cuff so you won't be taking anyone's blood pressure," Clarke trailed off. "Okay, practise on me, I want to see if you can get an accurate read. You take my pulse at my wrist, I'm going to count at my neck. Ready? Go."<p>

"Okay, stop," Clarke said after a silence. "What did you get?"

"Uhhh, about 37 beats so that's what, 74 bpm?" Finn asked.

"Not quite," Clarke said. "It was 80 bpm. That's within normal parameters but it's a little on the high side."

"No surprises there," Bellamy muttered without looking up from his work.

She smiled in Bellamy's direction but said nothing. "Anyway, your homework is to go down to the bunks and practise taking vitals of anyone who'll let you." Clarke said. "Once you've got that down we'll get you practising sutures and injections."

"Alright, thanks," Finn said but made no move to stand up or leave. He glanced past Clarke at Raven who was heavily absorbed in her heaters. "Hey princess," he lowered his voice. "You have a bunk buddy yet?"

Clarke inhaled slowly and fixed him with a steely gaze. "No," she said flatly.

"Want to share with me?" Finn asked.

Clarke stared past Finn's shoulder to see Bellamy bent over a mechanical manual. His hair had fallen in his face but Clarke could see that his eyes weren't moving. He was smiling.

"Clarke?" Finn asked again.

Clarke snapped her eyes back to Finn.

"Look," she said softly. "I don't think that's the best idea. I'm sorry."

"Yeah," Finn pushed his hair back. "Yeah, okay. Sure. Uh, I'm gonna go practise vitals then," he said and got to his feet.

Clarke spun her needle kit on the table and found her eyes drawn to Bellamy. He was looking hard at his manual, eyes still unmoving, but he must have felt her stare because he looked up, unable to keep the smirk off his face.

"Shut up," Clarke suppressed a smile.  
>Bellamy shook his head and went back to his book.<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

"Raven, clear off that table and lay a tarp down. Miller get him up there when she's done."

"Clarke, I'm fine."

"Shut up," Clarke commanded and turned around. "Finn, sit in that chair. Don't get up til I've seen you."

"Alright, Princess."

"Jasper, I don't think yours is that deep, just hold this down on it and apply pressure, hard. I'll come see you in a minute."

Clarke took a deep breath and turned around to face Bellamy. He was sitting up on the table with his legs hanging over the side. Clarke could see the blood seeping through his jeans. His knuckles were white from clutching the table and he was watching her closely from under his fringe.

"You're meant to lie down on that," was all she said before she reached for her needle kit.

Bellamy huffed and rolled his eyes but swung his legs up and laid back obediently.

"Alright," Clarke exhaled and stood over him. "I need to cut your pant leg open, okay?"

"Clarke, just do what you do," Bellamy clenched his jaw.

"Right," Clarke nodded. She took a knife and sawed open Bellamy's pant leg before ripping it past his knee. There was too much blood to get a good look at the wound.

"Raven, get a wet cloth and some gauze," Clarke said.

She took the cloth from Raven and pressed it firmly to the wound. Bellamy breathed deep but otherwise didn't make a sound.

"It was a spear, right?" Clarke asked. The cut was jagged and messy.

"Yeah," Bellamy said.

"You shouldn't have taken it out," Clarke muttered. She wiped her hands and threaded her needle.

"Sit still and don't look," she said and pressed down hard on his thigh. She started stitching, her face taut with concentration but her hands sure.

Bellamy sucked in through his teeth.

"Raven, go get Octavia, please."

"No," Bellamy grunted in protest.

"Please," Clarke urged.

"Yeah, okay," Raved nodded and headed out the door.

"Clarke, I-"

"Shut up," Clarke pushed down on the wound.

The door opened and Raven appeared, followed by Octavia.

"Bellamy!" she cried out. "Oh god, how are you?"

"Fine," he attempted a smile.

"Yeah, you look great," Octavia said with wide eyes. "What can I do?" she turned to Clarke.

"He's going to be fine," Clarke assured her. She dropped her voice. "Just hold his hand, okay?" She glanced at Bellamy's face. "And don't comment on how tight he squeezes," she muttered in an undertone. Bellamy shot her a dark look but remained silent.

Octavia pulled up a chair next to the table and took Bellamy's hand. Clarke pulled the skin on Bellamy's thigh together and started stitching again.

"Raven, can you take the cloth up please, I can't even see the wound."

"Yeah, I got it."

"And pour some moonshine on there too."

Bellamy jerked his leg and shifted on the table.

"Lie still," Clarke said without looking up from the wound.

It seemed like ages before Clarke was finished. Each stitch was painstaking and Clarke could feel Bellamy's leg tense up every time the needle pricked into his skin.

"Okay," she exhaled finally. "All done," she said. By this point her hands were covered in blood. "I'll just wash you off and you'll be set."

"Great," Bellamy said, eyes closed. She rinsed her hands in a bucket of water and wiped down his leg, finishing with a final rinse of moonshine. She cut his pants off entirely and pulled out the bloody tarp from under him. He was clean and stitched up but his grip on Octavia's hand was still vice-like. Clarke stood at the end of the table and undid his shoes gently. "Just hold on, okay?" she murmured. "I'll get back to you," she gave his toes a squeeze.

She moved on to Jasper and bandaged him up. A knife had just grazed his upper arm. Clarke cleaned the cut and wrapped it in gauze.

"You should be okay, Jas. I don't think you need stitches but if you keep bleeding through your bandage let me know."

"Will do," he smiled. "Thanks Clarke."

"I'll help you to your bunk," Octavia stood. "I'll be back, okay?" she said to Bellamy. Bellamy nodded and Octavia ran across the room to open the door for Jasper.

Clarke directed her attention to Finn. He was sitting down with elbows rested on his thighs and his head in his hands. "Okay, Finn," she pulled up a chair across from him. "Let me take a look at you. You were hit with a club, right?"

"Yeah," Finn looked up, "But Clarke, we need to talk."

"It can wait," Clarke tilted his chin up. "Did you lose consciousness at all?"

"No," Finn said impatiently, "Clarke listen-"

"No, you listen!" Clarke jabbed him in the chest. "You sustained head trauma, I need to check you out, we'll talk after. Now, do you feel any nausea?"

Finn scowled. "Yes."

"Where were you hit?"

"Uhhh," Finn felt both his temples with his hands. "The right side has a goose egg," he said.

"And where are you experiencing pain?"

"The left side."

"Hm," Clarke tutted. "Okay, follow this light with your eyes," she moved a flashlight back and forth.

"Whoa," Finn said.

"Make you dizzy?" Clarke asked.

"Yeah," Finn blinked.

"Alright, can you stand up for me now?"

"Mhm," Finn stood.

"On one leg now?"

Finn lifted his leg and promptly put it back down.

"You've got a concussion, take a seat. Any gaps in your memory?"

"What? No," Finn said. "I remember everything, Clarke, what happened back there?"

"Not now Finn."

"No," Finn insisted, "this is important. You didn't even hesitate when you saw that grounder, you just pulled the trigger!"

"Sit down," Clarke seethed through gritted teeth.

"There's so few of them left, how do you know they weren't approaching us for help?" Finn asked.

"She was holding a spear and pointing it at him," Clarke hissed and gestured toward Bellamy. "And then another one threw that spear into his leg!"

"Yeah, because you _shot and killed that woman,_" Finn retorted. "She hadn't done _anything_ yet. She was holding a spear, yes, but she _hadn't done anything. _Since when are we about taking pre-emptive strikes against people weaker than us?"

"Weaker than us? You've got a concussion. Jasper was cut. Bellamy has a hole in his leg!"

"And _they_ are all dead. _You_ fired the first shot."

Clarke stared at him open mouthed.

"We'll talk about his later," she said finally. "You need to rest. Raven can you bring Finn to his bunk. Wake him up every two hours please."

Raven shot her a pained expression.

"Okay, fine, just make sure he gets down to his bunk and ask Octavia to keep an eye on him please."

"Alright," Raven shrugged, "Come on, Finn, let's get going."

Finn grudgingly followed Raven out of the room. The door banged shut behind them.

Clarke sighed and rubbed her face in her hands.

"Don't sweat it, Princess," a deep voice drifted across the medbay.

"I'm not," Clarke muttered and got to her feet.

"Sure," Bellamy rolled his eyes and propped himself up on his elbows. "So what's the deal, am I free to go?"

Clarke crossed the room and stopped at the side of his table. "Not yet," she shook her head. "You've lost a lot of blood, I need to check your vitals."

"Alright," Bellamy nodded. "So what's that mean?"

"That means lie down," she pushed him on the chest.

"So bossy," he murmured, but laid back and stared up at the ceiling.

Her hand closed around his wrist and her fingers pressed against his skin.

"Clarke, I'm alive, you don't need to check for a pulse."

"I just gotta see how your heart's doing-"

"Well Princess, I'd say I'm holding up okay emotionally."

"Haha," Clarke said humourlessly. "Now stop talking, I'm counting."

She pulled up the chair next to him and leaned over his wrist, counting silently.

"You pulse is weak," she said after a minute, "and your beats per minute is low. You're going to need to stay and rest and drink lots of water to replenish your blood volume," she concluded.

"Alright," Bellamy agreed. "You done counting?" he asked. She was still bent over him with her fingers wrapped around his wrist.

"Yeah," Clarke nodded. "Yeah, I'm all done." She let go of his wrist but leaned her elbows on the edge of the table, crossing her arms. He stared at her expectantly.

"I shot first," she admitted after a silence.

Bellamy nodded. "I know."

Clarke met his eyes. "She was pointing a _spear_ at you."

He breathed out through his nose. "I know," he said again. "Clarke, you don't need to justify yourself to me. I'm not going to sit here and tell you that you were wrong to shoot. I have done some _horrific_ shit to protect the people I love. My _mom_ has done some horrific shit," he said as an addendum. "If you're looking for a scolding, go find Finn."

Clarke narrowed her eyes. "I'm not looking for a scolding."

"Then what are you looking for?" he asked brusquely.

Clarke sighed and dropped his gaze. "Nothing," she said. "I'm going to go get you some water. Try to rest, I'll be right back."

When she returned, Clarke was carrying a folded up parachute, a change of clothes, and a canister full of water.

"Alright Bel, I want you to drink _all_ of-" she stopped talking. Bellamy's eyes were closed shut.

"Bel?" she asked as she set down the canister on another table. She dropped the clothes and parachute on the floor and rushed over to the side of the table.

"Bellamy," she said loudly. She fumbled for his wrist and her fingers dug into his skin.

"Fuck," she whispered. She dropped his wrist and pushed her hands through her hair. "Okay," she exhaled. "Think." She turned and scooped up the folded parachute from the floor. "Bellamy," she called out again, louder this time. She jerked his legs up and shoved the parachute under his feet.

"OWW," he shouted and his whole body squirmed. "Jesus, Clarke."

"Fuck," she said again, breathing out shakily and rubbing her eyes in the heel of her hand. She dropped down in the chair next to him.

"What? What happened?" Bellamy asked and started to push himself up.

"Nothing, lie down," Clarke reached out and pushed on his chest. "Please, you can't sit up, your heart is working hard enough as it is."

Bellamy took one look at her face and compliantly laid back down. "What are you doing?" he demanded as she reached for his wrist.

"Nothing," she said. "I just- I couldn't find your pulse," her fingers flitted lightly over his veins. "There it is," she breathed. "I must have just missed it. It's there."

Bellamy stared at her, his brow furrowed and his dark eyes wide.

"Are you crying?" he asked incredulously.

"No," she protested and shot him a scathing look. She raised her arm to wipe her eyes on her sleeve but never once let go of his wrist.

"Clarke," he said, softer now. "Come on." He reached through her grip to touch her cheek.

"Don't," she flinched slightly.

"You don't," he frowned and brushed her eyelashes with his thumb.

She released his wrist, her fingertips skimming over his knuckles and stopping to clasp his hand, pressing it more firmly to her cheek.

"Alright?" he asked, his eyes searching her face.

She met his gaze and held it. His grip was strong and his eyes were in focus. "Yeah," she nodded.

"Good," he said and gave her fingers a squeeze. "Good."


	5. Chapter 5

"Bel?" Clarke whispered and pulled aside the parachute hangings around his bed. "Are you awake?"

He was lying face down, his fur pelt pulled half way over his bare back and his arms hooked under his pillow. She was just about to slip back out the way she came when he stirred.

"Clarke?" he blinked in the dim light coming through the parachute parting.

"Hey," she whispered. "I didn't mean to wake you. I brought you something."

She sat down on the edge of his bed and twisted around to hold a cup in front of his face.

"What's that?" he grumbled.

"Willow tea," Clarke said. "It's a pain killer, made from the same stuff as aspirin."

The corner of his lip turned up and his brow furrowed but he pushed himself up to a sitting position.

"Thanks," he muttered and leaned forward to take the cup from her, his chest making contact with her shoulder.

"Did you just get back to camp now?" He asked and sipped at his tea.

"Maybe an hour or two ago," Clarke scrunched up her nose. "Had to stop off in the medbay first, Humphrey burnt his hand and needed treatment."

"Long day," he raised his eyebrows. "How long's it been since sunset?"

"A while," Clarke nodded. "Maybe a few hours."

"Catch anything?" he asked.

"Some squirrels," she shrugged and pulled her feet up onto his bed, hugging her knees to her chest. "A few rabbits. Monty set up snares, we didn't want to waste bullets."

"That's good," Bellamy nodded. "Smart."

"Yeah," she nodded. "Although I'm pretty sure everybody hates me since I had to ream out half the camp for eating too many rations," she said. "I was pretty hard on them but they're going to need to be disciplined if we're going to survive the winter."

Bellamy shrugged. "They can hate all they want as long as they're still scared of you. Better to be feared than loved, right?"

Clarke snickered. "Geeze, listen to you. We _all _read The Prince in 12th year, Bel. You're not Machiavelli come again."

"Says you," he scowled. "I think I've been very princely," he nursed his tea. "I don't surround myself with flatterers, do I? I only ever talk to you, Raven, or Spacewalker and you three do nothing but argue with me."

Clarke grinned and shook her head. "I'm not going to start complimenting you more often just to prove you're not a prince."

"I'd lose respect for you if you did," Bellamy smiled into his cup. Clarke smiled back and they sat in easy silence for a minute.

Suddenly Clarke stirred. "I meant to come in here and check your leg," she said and turned around more fully to face him. "Mind if I take a look?" she asked.

"Do I really have a choice?"

Clarke shook her head. "None," she admitted. "Just being polite," she said and pulled back the fur covering his legs. He was stripped down to his shorts so it was easy to access the wound. She cleaned it out and changed his bandage.

"How you holding up?" she asked when she was done, her eyes searching his face.

"Not good," he shook his head, causing Clarke to raise her eyebrows in alarm.

"I'm actually pretty upset," he continued, "starting to think you staged a coup."

Clarke's lips twitched but she managed to fight the smile off her face.

"Oh, really?"

"Uh huh," Bellamy nodded fervently. "You know, get me stabbed, so I'm out of the picture and then you can bump yourself up from princess to queen."

"Right," Clarke rolled her eyes, "because if there's one thing I want around here, it's _more _responsibility."

Bellamy snickered.

"But really," she said, "how are you doing? Any fever? Bleeding throughout the day that you managed to clean up before I saw it?"  
>"No, nothing like that," Bellamy shook his head.<p>

"Good," Clarke nodded and covered him up with the fur again. "What about-" she faltered, "You know," she tapped her temple suggestively.

"What, mentally?" he asked in surprise. "Uh, fine I guess. Honestly, the boredom's the worst part. That and having to sit around while you're out hunting and foraging," he frowned.

"Hasn't Finn been around?" Clarke asked suspiciously. "Is he actually resting?"

"I don't know," Bellamy shrugged. "I haven't really seen him. I've been killing time just hanging out with the kids."

Clarke cocked her head. "Doing what?"

"Just teaching them stuff. How to tie knots and do first aid." He grinned. "You know most of them know nothing about what earth was like before the war?"

Clarke narrowed her eyes in disbelief. "Really?"

"I know right? _Jesus_, the education system on the Ark must be going to shit."

"No, I mean _really? _That's what you've been doing all day? I didn't think you'd have the patience for that."

"Are you kidding me?" He smiled. "You've met Octavia, right? It was patience or murder and I-" he stopped talking abruptly and his face darkened. "Well, I didn't work my way up to murder til well after O was grown up so-"

"Stop it," Clarke commanded, her voice soft. She was still sitting on the edge of his bed, adjacent to his hip with her feet tucked up.

"Don't do this tonight," she shook her head. "You don't have to."

"Yeah, I do," he muttered and reached past her to set his cup down on the floor. "I don't think about it half as often as I should. It's not right that I get to forget about it for such huge gaps in the day."

Clarke put a hand on his forearm and looked at him imploringly but he cut her off before she could speak.

"Stop looking at me like that," he grumbled and jerked his arm away from her.

"Like what?" She asked hotly.

"I don't know," he swallowed. "You're too understanding," he picked at the fur pelt that laid at his waist.

"Oh geeze," Clarke rolled her eyes. "Well in that case, I'm _so _sorry. I'll work on being less understanding."

"It's not funny Clarke. I don't deserve it," he growled. "Sometimes I feel guilty even being around you after everything I've done," he spat and raised his hand emphatically. "I shouldn't get to be this, this-" he trailed off, all his anger fizzling out of him.

"This what?" she demanded.

His shoulders sagged and he stared down at his hands.

"Happy."

Clarke inhaled sharply and pursed her lips.

"It's not up to you to decide how much you deserve, Bel. And it's especially not up to you to decide how much you deserve from _me,_" she insisted.

He clenched his jaw and raised his dark eyes.

"Maybe not," he said, "but I can decide how much I'm willing to take from you."

Her cool composure slipped and her face went slack but within a second, her features had turned stony again.

"Yeah," she nodded. "I guess you can."

They stared each other down. Clarke dropped her gaze first, twisting around to rest her elbows on her knees, her seat precarious on the edge of his bed. Bellamy slouched down to lie on his back. Clarke took his change in position as an invitation to leave. She was pressing her fists into the mattress, lifting herself to stand when a hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist.

She froze and turned to look at him.

"Fuck," he whispered and let her go. He rubbed his face in his hands.

"Bel," she said and peeled his hands away from his face. "What do you want?"

He laughed and shook his head at the ceiling.

"What I want and what I should do are two very different things, Princess."

"No," she said firmly. "That's not what I asked. _Bellamy_, _what do you want?_"

He shook his head again, staring pointedly away from her.

"Fine," she said softly. "We'll talk again tomorrow. Or the next day. Or whenever you're ready to stop punishing yourself."

She turned on her heel and pushed her arm through the parachute hangings.

"Clarke."

She stopped and turned to face him.

"Don't go," he choked. "Just. . .stay," he drove his fist into the mattress. "I want you to stay."

She looked at him, blue eyes boring into his dark ones. There was a beat.

"Okay," she nodded.

And just like that she unlaced her boots, shrugged out of her jacket, and stepped out of her pants. She stood there in her tank top and boy shorts and shook her hair loose before climbing into bed with him as if she'd done it a hundred times before.

She dragged the fur pelt over them and laid her head on his chest. She could feel his hesitation- the hitch in his throat, the pitter patter of his heart and the stiffness in his arms.

"Bel," she muttered, "relax." Her breath was hot on his skin. "Just stop thinking," she ordered and pressed a kiss into his shoulder.

His chest rose as he took a deep breath and then his arms came up to circle her. One hand flat and firm against her back, the other tangled in her hair. His fingertips danced lightly at the nape of her neck and she smiled.

He sighed and Clarke felt all of the tension just ebb out of him. She wanted to tell him that he deserved this- that he deserved to be happy and he deserved to be loved and that he'd lost _enough, _he'd suffered _enough. _But she didn't, not this night. She just buried her face in his neck and placed her palm over his heart and let her love radiate through her to him, like a heat wave.


End file.
